


A matter of responsibility

by Liquid_Lyrium



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Banter, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, M25 300 Members Prompt Fill Fest (Good Omens), Making an Effort (Good Omens), Other, Prompt Fill, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, Teasing, crowley is a bit of a bastard, except also sort of not, frustration as foreplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:27:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22996930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liquid_Lyrium/pseuds/Liquid_Lyrium
Summary: “I’m sorry weren’t we…?” As Crowley turned to give him a puzzled look Aziraphale suddenly realizedno we weren’t.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 120
Collections: M25 300 Members Prompt Fill Fest





	A matter of responsibility

**Author's Note:**

> For the M25 Server prompt fill event! I used this prompt: _Crowley nuzzling, scenting, and exploring Aziraphale with his hands and tongue, getting Aziraphale worked up, only for it to be 'happy snake' behaviour with no *intent* behind it._

There were a number of things to get used to after the end of the world that wasn’t. Some were easier than others. For example, the increased physicality of Aziraphale’s relationship with Crowley. The fact that they could now touch without fear of censure. Holding hands at dinner, walking arm in arm at the park, settling in on a couch for some light reading or a _Golden Girls_ marathon. This had taken all of half a day to get over before giddiness swept over the both of them and pushed past that particular barrier. It was far more difficult to become accustomed to the fact that Crowley now felt emboldened to shed his boots at the bookshop, and that they seemed to have a sixth sense of how to be in the way and underfoot. (And missing when it was time to go out to dinner.)

Still, despite being at ease initiating physical contact, Aziraphale felt that giddy, heady rush whenever Crowley did the same. There was still that mild frisson of doing something forbidden and so desperately longed for. He felt that same thrill in his gut as Crowley’s hands traced over the curves of his waist, stirring from sleep behind the angel. They were tangled up on the couch, Aziraphale reading a book with the serpent spooned behind him.

“Did you have a nice nap?”

“Mmhmm,” came the sleepy reply, and Aziraphale held his breath as he felt the other shift behind him, the long, lean line of Crowley’s body pressing against his much softer curves. The arm wound underneath him tightened just a bit, and the hand up top travelled from waist to thigh. _Oh my._

This was something else that he was still getting used to. The amorous nature their relationship had (finally) taken. This facet they were easing into much slower. A less charitable being than Aziraphale would have been amused that it was Crowley who needed to go slower.

This was nice, however. Something slow, and they both liked slow in bed, as it turned out. Aziraphale quietly closed his book and laid it on the floor. He felt Crowley’s face nuzzle into the curve of his neck. Heard and felt the deep inhale against his skin there. Gooseflesh raised across his jugular and down his chest as Crowley let out a deep, long breath and then inhaled again. Aziraphale let one hand settle over the hand at his navel. He swallowed as Crowley nuzzled him there. _Oh you wily thing, you know I love it when you tease my neck so._ Aziraphale tried to keep his breathing even, even as his Effort—sneaky thing—started to tingle with heat at its base.

He swallowed as the hand on his thigh squeezed and kneaded. He could feel Crowley’s mouth beneath his ear and another deep inhale.

“Y’smell so nice.” He felt the flick of a tongue against the hollow behind his earlobe. “Could eat you up.” He felt the flick of that tongue again and Aziraphale was thankful that he wasn’t standing, he knew his knees would give way if they were. That hand on his thigh kneaded its way higher. Aziraphale shifted subtly, trying to quietly encourage that hand to travel more towards his inseam.

"Why don’t you?”

The chuckle against his skin felt so sweet. There was the softest brush of lips against his cheek.That hand on his thigh stopped kneading and dragged up along his skin to brush over his belly once more.

 _Tease._ Aziraphale bit his lip. He felt clever fingers brush against his knuckles and then up to his elbow. He wiggled ever so slightly in counterpoint to Crowley’s shifting. That blessed mouth brushed over the nape of his neck, lips all but carding along the short hairs there.

There was a warm, comforting press of arms around his midsection, and then there was more writhing behind him. Aziraphale shifted forward just a little, trying not to betray his eagerness as Crowley pulled an arm out from beneath him. There was a little more wiggling behind him and then he felt Crowley sit up—and then the warmth behind him was gone in the next instant.

“Well, time to get up I think.” The demon stood before the couch, arms stretched overhead as his vertebrae cracked in a manner that was no doubt as satisfying as it was irritating.

 _“What?”_ Aziraphale couldn’t stop his mouth quite in time. “I’m sorry weren’t we…?” As Crowley turned to give him a puzzled look Aziraphale suddenly realized _no we weren’t._ Or at least his partner wasn’t. He felt his face prickle and grow hot, and the angel felt an urge to roll over and face the back of the sofa.

Crowley blinked slowly. A moment later the confused expression dropped into something predatory. “Oh. Got all hot and bothered, did we?”

“It’s fine!” Aziraphale said, his voice a little tight. “Honestly, I just… I thought perhaps you’d been working up to… something. That was my mistake.” Aziraphale pushed himself upright, so that he could bend down to retrieve his book. Before he got that far, however, someone got in his way. Crowley knelt in front of him, hands on his thighs. His grin the very definition of the word wicked.

"Is this the part where you tell me to 'take responsibility'?"

"Crowley I would never! That's such an outdated, awful, entitled, presumptive, truly heinous attitude-"

"And I know it's one of your favorite goddamn cliches. From ha'penny novels to the classics. Look me in the eyes and tell me your favorite Harlequin novel isn't splitting at the spine where the heroine utters that line to her dashing, rakish suitor."

Aziraphale bit back his instinctive, indignant response. Face hot, cock hotter, but he'd given up lying to Crowley—and it seemed like an ill advised decision at this precise moment.

“Be that as it may, I would never _actually-”_

"Methinks the angel doth protest too much," Crowley sniggered.

"I'm not protesting any more or less than I ought to at such a-a _callous_ view of what should be a mutual, consenting, amorous-"

"Only someone who's _really_ into it would be posturing this hard, angel." He would _not_ be distracted by the circle Crowley’s thumbs were tracing along the inside of his knees.

"It's a terrible thing to say!"

“Go on. Say it. You know you want to.” Crowley grinned up at him like the proverbial loon, hands running up his thighs, unhurried.

 _Lord, you really won’t let this go, will you?_ Aziraphale finally gritted the words through his teeth. As if that would somehow make his concession less humiliating. “Take responsibility for what you've done, you insufferable bastard.”

“Gladly,” Crowley winked up at him, and _oh_ it made his heart skip a beat, even as his cheeks were flush with equal parts arousal and irritation.

The only thing stopping Aziraphale from pulling out his effort and plunging it past those smart, smug lips until it hit the back of his lover’s throat was the knowledge of just how much Crowley would enjoy that.

“Are you satisfied now? There are days where I marvel at how unreasonably fond I am of you, you know.”

“Tssh. You always needed a bit of a push, every now and again,” Crowley reached up and dragged his thumb along the angel’s fly, clearly in no hurry. “Once you commit to indulging in something though, oh it’s a sight to behold.”

“Well, as I said, it still places the burden on _you_ which could be nothing further from the truth. It should be completely mutual. Even if you _are_ a bit of a cocktease at times, I would never just _assume_ that you owe me any sort of-of reciprocation.” He bit his lip as Crowley worked one of his buttons free.

“You love it because you spent _eons_ clinging to plausible deniability. I bet you had fantasies full of it. 'Oh no I couldn't possibly offer myself up to the pleasure of the flesh.'" Crowley intentionally pronounced 'pleasure' with a 'z’ sound. "'But, oh my, this absolute _brute_ of a demon has left me aching and wanting and, _oh,_ how can a being trapped in a corporation _possibly_ stand it? How could I _possibly_ be expected to resist temptation with all sorts of juices running down my thighs or a shaft hard enough to split wood on? Oh, take responsibility for the condition you've left me in…!' That sound about right?”

Only Crowley could give him what he wanted and leave him incredibly frustrated at the same time. “Well someone certainly refused to take a hint in 1793 so I suppose we’ll never know. And don't psychoanalyze me in bed.”

“Not in bed,” Crowley buried a smirk against his thigh.

Aziraphale sighed and leaned back against the sofa. “Is this a demon thing? Prying into my wants? Or are they just laid bare and open for you to see?”

There was a gentle kiss pressed to the top of his trouser-clad thigh. “Not nearly as much of that as you’d hope, I’ll wager. I just know you that well. Six thousand years and I picked up one or two things. I wasn’t as dense as you thought.”

“More’s the pity you didn’t do anything with what you picked up.” He felt a bit of relief as Crowley meticulously pried his effort free.

Those gold eyes twinkled up at him. “Isn’t that what I’m doing now? Making up for lost time? Indulging in your fantasies?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. Perhaps later they could negotiate and tease out more specifics surrounding some of those fantasies. Right now he didn’t have the patience or inclinations for such a game. “Just blow me you reprobate.”

There was another wink that set his heart doing cartwheels. “Fine, I’ll _take responsibility_ then. As promised.”

Anything Aziraphale would have said in response to that was lost as Crowley slipped him into the wet, impossible tightness of his mouth. And it was hours before the serpent let him string together a coherent sentence.

**Author's Note:**

> Sliding this in under the gun!! Whooo! If I had more time I may have gone full out smut, but I think the fade-to-black thing works for this prompt pretty well lol.


End file.
